Let it Burn
by raistss
Summary: It wasn't supposed to end like this, Levi thought. Modern AU, mildly OOC to fit the plotline. Eventual Levi/Petra. Rated T for mild language, descriptions of violence, sexual content, and thematic elements.


A/N: I probably shouldn't post two stories at once but I want to get some of these out of the way. So, without further ado, have the first chapter of _Let it Burn_! Please enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Attack on Titan. (If I did it'd be a lot better, haha!)

* * *

It wasn't supposed to end like this, Levi thought.

His skin was clammy, slick with sweat. He had fallen ill, and his gang abandoned him just like that. Nobody wanted to get sick; the sick did not live long.

Desperately, he'd broken into the nearest expensive-looking house he could find.

Congestion kept him from hearing properly, and it wasn't until he felt the cold steel pressed against his temple, the strong hands preventing escape that he realized he'd been a bit too loud.

"Don't move," the man said. Levi, though, never did like to listen. In an attempt to escape, he ducked down and wriggled his way out. However, illness made his movements more sluggish, and the man had quickly turned around, punching him in the face and cornering him against the wall in an instant.

Too exhausted to fight back, Levi could only let out a quiet groan of disappointment and pain. He slumped against the wall. The gun was in his face again and he could feel blood dripping down over his chapped lips.

It was really starting to hurt now.

"What did you think you were doing, boy?" The voice was practically mocking, and Levi coughed when he tried to laugh. The weight against him shifted. He couldn't see his assailant's face in the dark room.

"What does it look like I was doing? You got a lot of stuff, old man." He kept his voice flat, emotionless. It was a way to survive, what with what he was involved in. However, the expression slipped when the older man laughed, deep and rumbling in front of him.

"You aren't even armed, are you?" Levi's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He hadn't thought anything through, merely acting on impulse. He needed money, bad. As if to remind him, a coughing fit tore its way through his chest. Disgusting, he thought. Living in the filthy streets obviously hadn't been low enough.

The gun moved away from his temple, and he heard it uncock. He didn't react, though, still half-slumped against the wall. The other man grabbed his shoulders, directing him to the couch and sitting him down. In the dim light, Levi could start to make out his face - angular and thick-eyebrowed, sky blue eyes glinting slightly. He had blonde hair, neatly cut and slicked back. He looked to be in his late thirties.

And then it struck Levi. He hadn't even been sleeping.

* * *

Levi never knew his parents. He didn't even have a surname; it was simply made up when he was at the orphanage. As far as the story went, Levi was dumped there at the age of two, with a mild head injury and only a first name.

He never did remember his life before the orphanage.

Rivaille was what they came up with for his surname. It was essentially a mistranslation of his name in another language, but he didn't care. He'd ran away on his ninth birthday anyways. Christmas sucked, he'd reasoned. Due to lack of time and funding the two had been always been merged, or his personal holiday was simply forgotten.

Not that he ever received gifts to begin with.

Levi got more on the streets than ever before, despite all he lost. He couldn't shower daily, but he did the best he could. The filth he lived in eventually grew to be bearable.

Now he sat in this stranger's house, his shoulders slumped in defeat and exhaustion as he coughed miserably. His nose and cheek throbbed, and he wiped the blood from his nose with his sleeve. Levi showed no signs of fighting back at this point, ready to take whatever was thrown at him.

Erwin, the man said his name was. Erwin Smith. Levi didn't introduce himself, watching Erwin suspiciously. A light was turned on, a chair drug forward. The elder sat down, watching him in return.

"You gonna turn me in?" Levi asked, sick of the silence.

"Depends."

"Well great, that's real helpful. Thank you." Levi sneered. Erwin smiled.

"You've never had this happen, have you?" The elder asked. Levi's eyebrows drew together.

"Excuse me?"

"You've never done something without a plan, I mean." Erwin tilted his head to the side a bit. "You seem like someone who tends to think things through," he added.

Levi was silent for a moment. "No. No, I haven't had this happen." He coughed. "Although I don't always think things through." He wasn't sure why he was opening up to this stranger. He seemed trustworthy, but still...trust wasn't something Levi often came across, and it was easily broken and abused.

He wiped more blood from his nose.

"Of course. Action before talk. Gut reaction," Erwin offered. He picked up a box of Kleenex and handed it to Levi.

"Yeah. That." Levi squirmed a little, taking the box gratefully. He didn't like the way the elder man was peeking through the cracks of the walls he'd built. Anger welled up in response, but he didn't act on it. He was starting to feel the effect of his illness now, aching in his bones.

"You're pale," Erwin said. Levi stared at him.

"You just now noticed that?" He held the tissue against his nostrils, huffing.

"No. I just ran out of things to talk about."

"Of course." They were silent. Erwin seemed to watch as the tissue slowly soaked through with Levi's blood.

The iron stench was familiar to both, but neither said anything. Minutes passed, marked by the ticking of some clock in the large house. Erwin shifted, a thought flashing across his features. He leaned forward, squatting in the chair.

Levi's eyes flicked up to meet Erwin's. He shivered as a wave of nausea travelled through him, brought on by both his sickness and the intent look in Erwin's eyes. Levi didn't trust that expression, as it had gotten him into countless situations he'd rather not recall.

"Would it be too much to offer you a job?" Erwin asked, his voice soft.

Levi blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"It's obvious why you do what you do. You need money." He deadpanned.

"I don't need your damn charity," Levi grumbled.

"It's not charity. I don't pity you, either," he interrupted Levi. "I'm simply offering a job. Is that really such a terrible thing?"

Levi was silent. He held back a sneeze, as his nose was still bleeding, somewhat.

Erwin stood up, turning on a lamp as if just remembering it wasn't on. He blinked, slightly surprised by the younger man's face - he hadn't expected an adult. Although he was sure the other appeared at least somewhat younger than he really was, Erwin could tell he was in his mid-thirties, with narrow blue-grey colored eyes, high cheekbones, and almost chin-length black hair. It was messy, unbrushed and wavy, clinging onto his skin due to lack of care.

The look didn't suit him.

Levi, in turn, stared back at him, still mildly disturbed by the looks Erwin was giving him.

"Do I really look that bad?" He couldn't help but ask. His face ached.

"Yes and no. It's mostly the hair," Erwin retorted, smirking.

Levi glared.

"Can you trust me?" Erwin asked.

"Maybe you should be asking if you can trust me," Levi snipped.

"I don't. But I need your trust, just for now." Erwin was serious again.

"Well, if you don't point a gun at my head, I suppose. Or punch me in the face."

"I can't guarantee the second one," Erwin chuckled. "But at least tell me your name, you never said."

Levi sighed. "And your real one," the elder interjected.

"Levi Rivaille. There, are you happy?"

"Thank you," Erwin said. "It means a lot." Levi's eyebrows furrowed, questioning.

* * *

"Here's the guest room," Erwin stated, pushing open the door. He'd shown Levi around the building, saying he'd let him stay as long as he wanted. Levi couldn't help but feel obliged to respect the man for being so careless.

Although, he was hesitant to attempt to make off with the elder's things. Erwin had a pretty nasty punch.

A real job, with decent pay. _That_ was all Levi had ever wanted.

He wasn't about to throw the opportunity away.

Erwin handed him a bottle of cold medicine. "Don't make that face at me," he said. Gesturing around the room, he pointed out the main furnishings. "Bathroom is right over there, clean clothes in the dresser, probably too big, but we'll get you something later. I'm sure you know how to use the TV."

"Thank you," Levi replied. Erwin closed the door, and Levi listened to his footsteps as he left.

He stripped down to his boxers, finding a laundry basket before deciding his clothes weren't worth keeping. He tossed them in the garbage instead, then stepped into the bathroom, turning the light on, hesitant.

Levi gazed at his haggard reflection in the mirror, the red welt where Erwin had punched him, the small cut on the bridge of his nose that had come as a result from the punch. He still saw more, so much more, none of which was very positive.

He saw his face, twisted into shock, splattered with someone else's blood, the dirt and grime on his body washing away as the crimson liquid dripped down.

He scrubbed his skin raw in the shower.

Scars and old wounds protested in the hot water. His arms, torso, back, and legs all had too many scars for him to count, some a healthy white, some a threatening red. Some were hastily stitched, some had gotten infected in the past.

He cut his hair himself. Messy and still fairly long, an undercut beneath. At least it was different, he supposed. Presentable.

Levi felt oddly at ease, seeing someone else in his place.

The scars would never go away; he knew that. But something as simple as a shower and a haircut really did make a difference.

* * *

A/N: Let's face it, I'm a short chapter kind of person. Anyways, please review! Feedback gives me motivation. And you know what motivation gives you! :)


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